


if my heart was still mine

by nonbinarywithaknife (littleboxes)



Series: me sobbing about critical role [114]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb's Sad Backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Dehumanization, F/M, Fantastic Racism, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Insomnia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-16 07:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21504499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxes/pseuds/nonbinarywithaknife
Summary: a non linear timeline of caleb and nott's relationship.Beginning. A goblin and a human are thrown into a prison cell.Accusation. Caleb has a conversation with himself.Restless. Caleb worries.Haze. After casting firebolt, Caleb checks out. Nott cares for him.
Relationships: Nott & Caleb Widogast, Nott/Caleb Widogast
Series: me sobbing about critical role [114]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1266866
Comments: 27
Kudos: 99





	1. beginning

**Author's Note:**

> title from we have it all by the pim stones

nott sees a woman holding the hand of her son. the woman is a human. she has long brown hair. her son is a tiefling. his eyes are sky blue, and he’s laughing up at his mother. nott stops, too far away from the security the alley provides her. someone screams. the crowd turns, gasps. she tries to run.

there are too many of them. she’s caught, and the crownsguard grip her arms too tightly. she knows they'll bruise. she can’t bring herself to hate them for it. she thinks of the horror on the mother’s face as she tugged her son away. she understands. her arm throbs with pain. the crowd titters.

she expects them to kill her. to exterminate the monster. but no. they're in a town just big enough that to hang her would be- uncivilized. _uncouth_. they grant her their gracious mercy and throw her in a moulding cell. they don’t charge her with anything. the crime of being a goblin is enough. she understands.

caleb is a dirty man wearing a ragged overcoat with mud in his beard. he hangs around the bookshop for days, reading and memorizing. the shopkeeper makes expressions of distaste, but does nothing.

he finds a promising spellbook hidden amongst tomes on horticulture, and hopes that his cat and his coat will be enough to see him through. they are not. he has never been an adept thief. they charge him with larceny and vagrancy and throw him in a cell. they do not tell him when he can expect to be released. it is almost a comfort, to know he will sleep with a roof over his head.

nott has been in her cell long enough to carve out a corner as her own when they throw a man into the cell nextdoor. she knows enough to know that these are the prison cells, rather than the jail. that she will likely be left here to rot. she wonders what this man did to be sent here, and does not think about the life veth, she, _veth,_ had.

caleb's wrist hits the stone hard, when they shove him into the cell, and while he is grateful for the lack of tell-tale _crack_ , it means somatic magic will be out of the question for- a few days at least.

he collapses against the wall, grateful they let him keep his coat- only after thoroughly searching, of course, which made his teeth grind and his shoulders tense. they were _his_ things. they would all be disturbed, now. wrong. his system broken. everything mixing together. he breathes deeply in through his nose, and tries not to think about it. focuses on the cold instead.

he looks around his cell, intending to take stock of his temporary home, and when he catches the eye of his- neighbor, he supposes, the reflective gold eyes bore into him, and he startles.

the person keeps staring, not bothered by the fact that they’ve been noticed, and caleb slowly continues his inspection of the cell. there’s a small window, barely worthy of the term, up by the ceiling of the far wall. it’s better than nothing, he supposes, and he gets the barest view if he tilts his head just so.

nott stares at the newcomer. he’s thin, and the coat he’s wearing hangs off him as if he’s the coat rack rather than the wearer. he has a beard that is mostly mud and his hair is long in the way that hers is- in the way that people more concerned with their next meal than their appearance wear it.

he looks around his cell with a surprisingly keen eye, and she wonders if he’s a murderer. the quiet ones, they always say to watch out for. but no. he would’ve been hanged, if he was a murderer. a thief, perhaps, like her? his hands are bony enough for it.

nott tries not to feel disgust at the fact that she knows how to identify a thief. wonders if he knows thieves’ cant. if, maybe, he’s a thief, they could escape together-?

no. she chokes that thought before it can go any further. he is a stranger. a- surprisingly attractive stranger, yes, and one who for all intents and purposes looks rather weak, but he’s still a _criminal._ he did something to get here. and nott has had quite enough of having things done to her to trust the first weak looking stranger to get thrown into the neighboring cell.

his name is caleb. caleb widogast. he is a wizard. he can do magic. he has a fey cat. in four more days, his hand will be healed enough for him to summon him. (the cat’s name is frumpkin. nott thinks that’s a stupid name. when she tells him, her mouth moving faster than her common sense, caleb frowns before barking out a laugh that sort of sounds like a rusty pipe being torn apart. she breathes a sigh of relief that he isn’t angry, and starts to laugh as well.)

(it’s been so long since she’s laughed.)

she tells him her name is nott. nott the brave. he accepts it, calls her it, not just nott, either, but the whole thing. nott the brave. it tastes less bitter when he says it. less like a divine joke of her own making. she tells him she got caught stealing. that they threw her in here to rot and die in the shadows so the city wouldn’t have to look at her. most of it’s true. caleb is too uncomfortable to see through it. it’s fine. (she understands. she doesn’t want to look at her either).

nott doesn’t trust him. she doesn’t. she’s not _stupid_.

but when night falls, and he falls asleep- he always falls asleep first. she’s jealous of that. he can just tilt his head back and close his eyes and sleep. it is. difficult, for nott to sleep. or at least. difficult to sleep anywhere that isn’t her bed at home. she’d always been a fussy sleeper. she and yeza had spent months tweaking their mattress before she’d been able to get a full night’s rest. caleb had noticed after a few days. her tossing and turning. he offered her his coat. she said no. she would be fine. she’s slept (fitfully) on worse-

when night falls, she stares at him. tracks the moonlight that falls across his face. she feels a twisty feeling in her chest, and swallows it down. the prison food here is awful. she wonders if she’ll ever eat a freshly baked loaf of bread again. it’s unlikely. it would probably get caught in her teeth, anyway.


	2. accusation

"what are you _doing_?" caleb says, quiet. vicious. "what are you _doing_ , here?"

“you are being _selfish_ ,” he says into the fire. “what is _wrong_ with you?”

he itches to snap his fingers. to summon frumpkin. to run his hands through the soothing fur. but-

“who are _you_?” caleb says, quiet, like a curse. “who are _you_ to- to- give her your loyalty?”

nott isn’t with him right now. she’s snuck off ahead, to scout. to make sure the wolves they’d heard earlier are gone. he trusts her. trusts in her skills. and yet-

the thought of her alone. chased by wolves, only her crossbow and a knife. him, sitting useless by a fire- hah, unknowing. he twitches his fingers. stops. shoves them into a coat pocket. picks at the fabric.

“she deserves better than _you_ ,” caleb says, thinking about a school. about dark rooms and the smell of blood. the sound of screams. the scent of burning hair, and the sound of screams. the screams. 

he thinks about her eyes. so intelligent. the way they’d lit up when she’d first cast _message_. how, when he’d asked where she learned, she’d looked at him funny and said- “i just- did it. does it not work that way for you?”

her hands. so quick. capable. her crossbow is old, cracked. third, maybe fourth hand. lifted from a bandit who was too slow. by all counts, it shouldn’t work. and yet, she works it effortlessly. wields it the way he does (did) magic. (fire.)

thinks about a copper wire. about _you can reply to this message_. about her delighted grin when he had. thinks about everything else he wants to say. everything else he cannot put into words.

“you should leave her,” caleb says. “she deserves better than you. you are only dragging her down.”

caleb knows it is true. he is a liability. he is weak. he cannot see in the dark. he trips easily over the forest floor. he cannot handle a knife even if his life depends on it, as evidenced by their fight with the gnolls. 

he is hunted. 

she should leave him behind. he should go. it would be right to go.

caleb is selfish.

there is a rustling in the brush. he raises a hand, starts to cast-

nott appears. pulls down her hood and mask and takes a swig from her flask.

“they’re gone. the tracks head north, and they looked pretty old. i guess. as old as wolf tracks can look, i mean.”

caleb stares as she fiddles with her sleeves. the bandages are getting grimy. so are his. they should both replace them. he knows neither of them will. 

“your flask, are you- getting low? there is a town nearby. we could stop. perhaps even stay at an inn, for a night?”

nott picks at the fabric for a second more, and then nods. looks up at him, her eyes bright. the fire is reflected in them. 

“oh! we could look for books for you too! and- an inn. if you want.”

her voice changes with that last sentence. goes- flatter. less excited. the lines of her mouth slip downward in a frown. caleb frowns as well.

but she does not say anything else. his shoulders tense. he’s said something wrong. he does not know- he pokes at the fire with a stick.

“i will take first watch tonight. we can head out in the morning, ja?” he says.

nott shrugs. “sure.”

she curls up on their one bedroll and turns her back to the fire. caleb pokes it with the stick again.

caleb should leave. caleb does not deserve this. a- companion. a friend. a-

"this is a mistake," he says into the fire.

caleb should leave. caleb is selfish.

caleb pokes at the fire.


	3. restless

“all i have to do is release you-?” nott says, and her eyes are sharp. clear. caleb can see, though, the way her hands are clenching. her claws are digging into her palms. she’s holding tightly onto the ruby. she would not release him, caleb knows, and yet. 

he remembers a man from rexxentrum. the way a powerful mage can twist their words. worm them into your heart. caleb worries. 

the group reacts of course, and so does he. caduceus silences nott, beau. yussa takes the ruby. disintegrates the body. and they leave. onto zadash, soon. but. first, they rest. 

nott falls asleep quickly. or at least, she is acting well enough to fool him. caleb knows he should feel tired, and yet. 

he feels- restless. antsy. like a live wire is running through his veins. he takes out a copper wire and twists it around his fingers. tries transcribing a spell, but his hands shake. the ink runs over the clean lines of the glyph, and he puts his spell book away. 

he should be studying. searching. how has he failed her so badly she would look to _halas_ for help? surely, surely she knows. she knows how important she is to him. how hard he is searching for a spell to fix her. how much every failed experiment only makes him search harder. unless-

unless she doesn’t? 

caleb shifts. shifts again. gets up, goes to leave- looks at nott. stops. looks at the door. looks at nott. feels a twisty feeling in his chest and quietly slips from their room. 

caleb walks down the stone hallway and twists the wire in his hands, over and over and over. over and over and over, his thoughts tumble and twist and bind until he feels like he has been _hasted_. he blinks, and finds himself on the roof. 

the sky is dark, a navy-purple that they have all become used to. but now the stars are visible, and they shine magnificently. 

his boots make scuffing sounds on the stone as he paces. step, step, step, step, pivot. step, step, step, step, pivot. he wonders if he’ll wear a hole in his shoe. if he is being a bad friend. if maybe- he should speak to beau about it?

the words tear at his heart. bad friend. bad friend. they should not hurt so much. they should. he tears off a small piece of fleece from his coat and worries it between his thumb and forefinger. bites his nail. is he a bad friend for stopping her? for not acting sooner? he wants to help her, _needs_ to help her, feels her pain tugging at him, and yet. he cannot. he does not know how, not yet. 

caleb paces through the night. eventually, he sits down against the ledge and summons frumpkin. pets him, and falls asleep staring vacantly into the sunrise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna b honest. i _hate_ this chapter. i spent _two weeks_ editing and revising and rewriting and i just. cannot. so im just posting it. next one will be better


	4. haze

they’re sprinting into the woods, caleb straining to keep up with nott, but the bandits keep coming. _thwip_ _thwip_ , nott downs one with her crossbow and keeps running. _thwip_ _thwip_ , another gone. there’s one bandit left. nott shoots for a third time, but the bolts go wide. the bandit is closing in. he’s snarling fiercely, and there’s dried blood staining the dagger he’s brandishing. there's murder in his eyes. 

caleb raises a hand. feels his fingers blacken and casts _firebolt_. the bandit’s clothing catches, and he screams. the fire licks up his chest. _thwip thwip_ go two bolts into his chest. but the fire keeps going. climbing, jumping up the screaming man. he writhes on the ground. he takes a long time to die. 

his screams ring in caleb’s ears. he feels rooted to the ground, and he cannot look away from the burnt and blackened corpse in front of him. he sees a corpse. he sees a house. the wood crumbles. a goblin waves her hand in front of his face. the wood creaks, and groans, and the screams haven’t stopped yet. 

when caleb doesn’t turn away from the body of the bandit, nott calls out his name. 

“caleb? what’s wrong?”

she walks up and waves her hand in front of his face. his eyes are- glassy. she says his name again. pokes his shin gently. nothing. she looks around nervously. they can’t risk staying here. 

the rest of the bandit camp had been out, presumably robbing people or stealing things. that there were so few in the camp was the whole reason she and caleb had risked trying to steal from them. the others will have heard the commotion. they’ll come looking. and nott can’t defend both herself and caleb from a horde of angry bandits.

she gently tugs at his coat sleeve and eventually he responds. turns to look at her, but there’s no recognition in his eyes. it’s like he’s looking through her and seeing something else. it’s unnerving. it’s also worrying. she files it away for later- no fire unless it’s an emergency.

it takes awhile. she gently urges caleb forward, whispers encouragement, tries to get them as far away as she can. they’re still closer to the camp than she’s comfortable with, but she’s exhausted. and caleb is still- out of it. 

she doesn’t know how to fix this. she can’t summon frumpkin, and shocking him might just make it worse. she hopes that sleeping will make it go away. she goes to light the campfire, and then glances at caleb. shivers a little, and then puts the flint and steel aside. 

she sets up their one bedroll. urges caleb into it. doesn’t bother taking off his coat. it’s too cold to risk it anyway, especially without a fire. she sits down next to him. hopes he won’t mind the unexpected closeness when he wakes up. she faces the perimeter of their little camp, and takes a swig of booze. she’s running low. aims her crossbow outwards. settles in for a long night. 

every few minutes, she glances back at caleb. his eyes are still glassier than she thinks is healthy, but he’s beginning to move more. shift around. 

the sun is just beginning to hint at the sky when she hears a _snap_ and then there’s the sound of a cat behind her. frumpkin is curled around caleb’s neck, purring intensely. 

she blinks her eyes a few times, just to make sure the lack of sleep isn’t getting to her. frumpkin blinks back. caleb stares at the ground.

says, “ah, thank you, nott. i am- my... history with fire is- i. apologize, for that.”

nott pats him on the knee. ignores the hop in her chest at the way he doesn’t flinch at the contact. 

“we don’t need fire anyway. you’ve got that other one, the one with the diamond, right? i'm sure that spell’s better anyway.”

quietly, caleb tells her about the _chromatic orb_ spell. she doesn’t understand. but his voice sounds less thready as he goes, so she sits and listens. 

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on a list of 30 drabble prompts! i'm gonna try and post one every day, but i am currently drowning in school work so no promises.  
> 


End file.
